Chillin on the ZSide
by Ace Oiler
Summary: Chillin, thrillin...on the Z-side that is.


**Chillin' on the Z-Side**

**Scene 1: Under the Cardboard**

Outside the house, it is about to rain. Blanche, Dorothy, and Sophia are all sitting around in the living room. Suddenly, the front door flies open, and Rose, dressed in a green dress with her foofy hair all messed up, lumbers in with the wind.

"You all are never gonna guess what I've been through today. I can't believe that the wind blew a tree branch through my car. I almost got in a wreck on the road, too. Good thing I was given St. Olaf's best driver of the year award for 1 year in a row."

"How could you have been awarded for 1 year in a row? That doesn't even make sense, you buffoon!," Dorothy yells.

"Well, I just think it sounds smarter like that. What's eating you, Dorothy?" Rose inquires in a subdued tone.

"Nothing. That's the problem!" Sophia retorts, smiling slyly.

"Ma, I happen to have a really great boyfriend right now, and it seems like...we were made for each other. I don't know how else to describe it," Dorothy pensively explains.

"Yeah, sure. You're really getting somewhere, Dorothy. I'm sure you both have been really hitting it off. And I'm Raquel Welch," Sophia utters.

"I just want to have my feet soaked. I think I should go right now and get me some of them Epsom salts out of my 'lil cabinet. Oh. My feet are just so damn soar from all this walking around the museum. I am just getting so tired of these damn visitors who ask me to walk around getting them pamphlets and what not," Blanche moans, slightly shaking her head.

"What are you complaining about? It'd do you some good to be up on your feet for a change, seeing that you've probably had the most mileage on your back," Sophia adds.

"Oh, Sophia. I don't have that much mileage. The odometer turned around ages ago, and I'm all new!," Rose blushes.

"Anyway, girls, I have a problem," Rose interrupts, boldly.

"We know, we know Rose. You don't have enough of that cheap dye from the 'Pick and Save' to fix your roots," Dorothy adds in.

"Well, not exactly. I...don't really know how to say this. I found a man on the south side of town who needed a place to stay. He was homeless, so I offered him a bed in the garage," Rose says.

"Needed a place? Needed a PLACE? Why couldn't he go to one of them soup kitchens or whatchamacallit-ma-call-its? They got great, first-class service there. Food and a bed," Blanche irascibly declares.

"Blanche, if you saw him when I saw him, in the storm, in the rain, under a piece of sopping cardboard box, with no food or shelter, you would have done the same thing," Rose says in her defense.

"All I'm saying is, he better look like George Clooney, or he's out of here faster than my legs spread open for a man from Bermuda. They're really like a jack-in-the-box, my legs," Blanche gloats.

"How come you didn't ask us before you decided to ask some bum over for a slumber party, you fool?" Dorothy intones deeply.

"Just come and meet him. Come on now, let's go."

The girls make their way to the garage. Outside, the storm is rattling the windows and the garage door. In the corner, sitting and talking to himself, is a black man dressed in an oily rag.

"Girls, this is Z. He's going to stay in our garage tonight, aren't you Z? Sorry, but we don't have any beds inside," Rose states, morosely.

"Hello. I'm Z. I'm right glad that you nice ladies could offer me a place to stay for the night. I was getting so cold and hungry out there in the rain," Z sadly comments.

"Well, as long as you're here, do you like Dominoes?" Sophia asks.

"Ma, get back inside the house. You too, girls. I want to have a word with Z," Dorothy mandates, starkly.

The girls reluctantly walk out of the garage, closing the door behind them. They try to listen in, but the storm outside is raging, and blocks out the sound.

**Scene 2- Never Say Never**

Sophia and Blanche are in the living room, watching an episode of 'Dynasty'. The storm has still not abated, and they gaze with fixed attention.

"Wish I had me one of them dresses. Oh, that one would highlight my bosoms, and accentuate their perkiness," Blanche whimpers, covetously.

"Yeah, that and your jello thighs, skank," Sophia whispers almost inaudibly.

"What, what did you say, Sophia?"

"Nothing, nothing. I wonder when Dorothy is going to come out of the garage. You'd think that by now, we would have seen her reading on the couch like she always does."

"Yes. I know Dorothy is good for one thing. She's only good if you like dried fruit," Blanche declares.

"Tell me about it," Sophia scoffs.

Suddenly, the kitchen door flies open with Dorothy, crooning and mumbling indistinctly the words to the Carly Simon song "You're So Vain."

"Well, what do we have here?" Blanche coos.

"Aw, pussycat. You had your first piece of chocolate cake," Sophia grins, satisfied.

"And I want seconds. That was INCREDIBLE! For once, Rose has done something smart in her life by letting Z stay in the garage," Dorothy muses, in a euphoric state.

"It was really that good, huh?" Blanche inquires, in a concentrated stare.

"It was-it was inexplicable. Like the feeling you get when you're on a roller coaster and you turn upside down in a circle," Dorothy deeply intones.

"Damn. Dorothy, you need to hook me up," Blanche chimes, staring off into space.

"I think there's a lot more to go around!" Dorothy chortles, like an excited debutante.

"I gotta see this for myself. Z! Come into the living room. Z!" Sophia wails.

Z slowly makes his way into the living room, carrying a bottle of rum and smoking a cigar.

"Where did you get that cigar?" Sophia asks.

"That mighty fine lady who picked me up, the one with the pee pee colored hair, gave it to me, seeing that I love a good cigar now and then. Says it was her husband's," Z states, matter-of-factly.

"Well, I'd like to think that there are...lots of other ways you could use that cigar. It's going to be like a party at Clinton's house!" Blanche wails.

"You have in mind something? I'm always glad to give back," Z plainly utters.

Blanche pulls Z by the shirt onto the couch, pushing him down. She rubs her gelatinous ass back and forth, hypnotically, in his face. Z licks his lips. Sophia tip-toes over with her wicker bag, spanking her saggy rump in Z's face, then sits on Z's lap. Dorothy stares and grunts as a voyeur. Z tears off Sophia's shirt, exposing her bra. He kisses her on the nape of her neck until she gives out a faint squeal. He slowly unzips his pants, and Blanche sits down on his protruding manhood.

"Ooooooo! Chug-a, chug-a, chug-a, toot toot!" Blanche shrieks.

"Granny's gotta secret...wanna see?" Sophia winsomely exclaims.

"Yeah. Let Z see," Z says.

Sophia takes off her bra to expose two wrinkled, sweaty white utters. She flips and flops them back and forth onto Z's hand, while Blanche moans in pleasure as she bounces like a putty ball on top of Z's hard pole.

"Ooooooooo!" Dorothy belches.

Suddenly, Rose enters the living room from the hallway, with a bag of potato chips.

"What's going on here?" Rose questions, dumbfounded.

"What do you think we're doing? We're having a party, stupid," Blanche snaps, as she rises up to put on her panties.

"Z, I brought you here to have a place to stay; to pass the night. I had no idea that it would be like this," Rose says, nonplussed.

"Come one, you can have some too, if you want," Z retorts.

Rose looks around the room, absent-mindedly. She stares at Z's hard member, pulsating like a big chocolate eclair.

"Well, if you put it that way..."

**Scene 3: Don't Mess With the Z**

Sophia, Dorothy, Rose, and Blanche wake up in the morning. They're minds are reeling, because they don't remember anything from the previous night. They look around the living room, in astonishment, and realize that all of the furniture has been stolen. Graffiti is marked across the walls.

"What happened?" Blanche asks, in another world.

"Z happened," Rose confirms.

"He stole all our stuff. Everything," Dorothy states, dolefully.

"He sure did. And, man, I'm sore," Sophia chirps, thrusting her hands out in front of her.

"My hoo-hoo hurts. I drank too much vodka," Rose adds.

"Well, we'll never get our stuff back." Blanche says in a resigned tone.

"But that was one hell of a night, girls!" Dorothy cheers, with no hint of rue.

"It was one hell of a ride. 350 horse power. Let's eat some cheesecake!" Blanche suggests, subdued.

"That's a great idea. I'll get the spoons," Rose contently assures.

"I'll get the chocolate syrup!" Dorothy exclaims, ecstatically.

"And I'll get the aspirin. Pussycat, my pussycat is raw. She needs a cat nap," Sophia listlessly states.

"Well, all I can say is, now I know why we call ourselves the 'Golden Girls' because this house smells pretty golden...liquid golden, like the humane society," Sophia nods, decisively.

The End


End file.
